Back on the coast road we visited what Limey believed to be a very ugly village, with a very ugly hotel. Now I know ugly, and it seemed fine to me
We stopped off so I could pee in a public toilet in Blackwaterfoot. Tip - don't go into one of those automated booths with a cape on. The ends will droop onto the wet floor (sanitised, certainly, but still wet) and when you try to hitch them about in the small space they will try to drop into the open toilet still full of your wee as it has an automated flush once you leave it.
By this time we really were in twilight.
We drove past the local village pub, now a restaurant, with nowhere for the locals to go in their muddy boots and calloused hands to drink and carouse. I promised that when I win the Euromillions I will buy them out and run the place at a loss in order to provide a much needed centre for the community.
Although saying that, they have plans afoot to create a social club which will effectively do the same thing - although not the ousting of the denizens of the restaurant. Power to their collective elbows I say.